好望角對我而言不是個陌生的名詞。這個名詞曾出現在國中歷史課本中，但就像西子灣一樣，僅僅是個地理名詞。當時的我還只能對著玻璃窗外的浮雲，痴痴幻想而祈禱下課鐘聲趕快來臨，卻怎知我如今已踏上南非的土地，就站在它的高處，對著它感慨詠歎！
The Cape of Good Hope was never unfamiliar to me. It first appeared in my middle school history textbook, but like Sizihwan in Kaohsiung, it was nothing more than a geographical term. Back then, I could only gaze at the drifting clouds outside the classroom window, daydreaming while waiting for the bell to ring. How could I have imagined that one day I would set foot on South African soil, standing atop this legendary cape, overwhelmed with awe and reverence?
有人說：「與其試著吟詠上帝的詩句，不如親臨體驗。看浩浩奔逝的流水，去感受它的不捨晝夜；看巍峨聳立的高山，去感受它的氣勢磅礡。」在好望角，你可以體會到兩者。誰也描述不了好望角的浪潮衝岸，那種洶湧湍急的奔放，但海水可以的。一朵朵浪花由藍綠色的海潮中翻騰沸白，像跳躍的音符，在五線譜般的海紋上演奏交響樂。上帝是最有份量的指揮家，風神就是祂的指揮棒，而該樂團的團員即是大西洋與印度洋澎湃的浪潮，正演奏一場生生不息的音樂會。潮聲有時慷慨激昂，比小提琴還高亢，好似在吶喊：「為什麼我再努力也無法衝到山之巔？難道我一輩子只能在暗礁低處上，日夜不停地徘徊？」潮聲時而悲怨哀絕，比胡琴還要淒婉，好似在嗚鳴傾訴：「為何我的生命如此虛幻，比蜉蝣還短暫？只在數秒之間，我從生命的高峰撞上岩石，頓時全身支離破碎。為什麼我所見的一切都是短促、徒勞與疾逝？」這場音樂會的主題處處充滿矛盾，但聆聽起來卻又如此自然悅耳。或許海潮的起伏固定，就像歷史，只是不斷重複人類永恆的悲哀吧！
Some say, “Instead of trying to sing hymns to God, why not experience them firsthand? Watch the ceaseless flow of water to feel its relentless passage through time; gaze at towering mountains to sense their magnificent grandeur.” At the Cape of Good Hope, you can experience both. No words can fully describe the crashing waves here, their wild and untamed energy—but the sea can. The turquoise tides erupt into white foam, like musical notes leaping from a symphony played upon the staff lines of ocean swells. God, the mightiest conductor, wields the wind as His baton, commanding the Atlantic and Indian Oceans to perform an eternal concert. The sound of the waves sometimes swells with fervour, rising higher than a violin’s pitch, as if crying out: “Why, no matter how hard I try, can I never reach the mountain’s summit? Am I doomed to forever wander among the reefs below, ceaselessly and restlessly?” Other times, the waves lament with the sorrow of an erhu, mourning: “Why is my existence so fleeting, even more ephemeral than a mayfly’s? In mere seconds, I rise to life’s peak, crash into the rocks, and shatter completely. Why does everything I see feel so brief, futile, and transient?” This symphony is filled with contradictions, yet it resonates so naturally and harmoniously. Perhaps the rise and fall of tides mirrors the cycles of history, repeating humanity’s eternal sorrows.
好望角的浪潮，帶給我的感受是澎湃的黯然，但不孤絕。李白有一聯詩句：「蜀道之難難於上青天，使人聽此凋朱顏。」這裡的懸崖峭壁高險曲折，和遼闊的海平線同為一絕。或許這奇崖深壑和四川的蜀道有一樣的艱險，湍猛的浪濤和長江逆折的迴川一樣的奔流，但並不讓人懼怕。看好望角的碧海晴天，皓皓白雲與行行雁群一齊飛舞，漸漸消失在孤單的海平面上。當你登高望遠，微風拂面，即使沒有飄然羽化登仙的快感，亦可感受到天地山水的淡泊寬闊。看天是那麼遠，海是如此深，浪潮如此奔騰，山崖如此險峻，不禁感慨自己的渺小。好像蘇子瞻暢遊赤壁懷古，興逸遄飛，卻又好似王子安在滕王閣上因流離遷謫，哀感駢集。
The waves at the Cape evoke a turbulent melancholy but not loneliness. Li Bai once wrote, “The road to Shu is harder than scaling the blue heavens; hearing this drains the colour from one’s face.” The cliffs and jagged coastlines here, paired with the vastness of the horizon, are equally awe-inspiring. Perhaps these cliffs rival the peril of Shu’s roads, and the fierce waves resemble the winding currents of the Yangtze River, yet they don’t inspire fear. At the Cape, the azure skies, rolling seas, white clouds, and flocks of geese soaring toward the distant horizon form a breathtaking harmony. Standing here, feeling the breeze brush your face, you might not feel like an immortal ascending to heaven, but you can sense the boundless serenity of nature. The skies are so distant, the seas so deep, the waves so untamed, and the cliffs so rugged that you can’t help but marvel at your own insignificance. It’s like Su Shi drifting along the Red Cliffs in spirited reverie or Wang Bo, exiled and sorrowful, pouring his heart into the Tengwang Pavilion.
歷史在好望角留下遺跡，曾是歷史轉捩點的它，也曾在我的腳下踏過，但我卻帶不走任何痕跡。夕陽緩緩落下，該是回家的時候。海面上的夕陽餘暉，與西子灣的夕陽景象殊無不同，但各有各的溫存。順駛回程，好望角是越來越遠了，而正踏上歸途的我，竟也不知內心深處的好望角當在何方？
History has left its mark at the Cape of Good Hope. Once a turning point in human history, it now lies underfoot, though I carry away no trace of it. As the sun sets, it’s time to return home. The sunset over the ocean, with its gentle afterglow, feels no different from the sunsets at Sizihwan, each carrying its own warmth. Driving back, the Cape of Good Hope grows increasingly distant, yet I find myself unsure of where, deep within, my own Cape resides.
斜陽冉冉，天邊晚霞紅橙中帶著幾許淡紫，轉眼即是漫漫黑夜。大西洋的浪潮靜了，美好的一天又即將逝去。滄桑無語的桌山目視著我逐漸消失的背影，在R27的道路上，在千門萬戶的塵世裡，不斷地縮小，最終沈隱在茫茫天涯的盡處。
The slanting sun dips below the horizon, painting the evening sky in shades of red, orange, and hints of violet, soon swallowed by the encroaching night. The Atlantic waves fall silent, and another beautiful day fades away. The weathered Table Mountain watches my retreating figure as it shrinks into the vastness, eventually vanishing into the endless expanse of the R27 highway and the bustling world beyond.
P.S. 整理過去的文件，無意間發現這篇手稿，算算日期，應該寫於十年前(1998)。時間的流逝，無聲無息地，真令人驚恐。用不同的心情重讀此篇，如今看來，發現當時的我應該很憂鬱吧！這些文字，讓我想起當時捧著古文啃讀的光景。到現在，腦中浮現的是蘇軾的前赤壁賦和王勃的滕王閣序，其中滕王閣序裡面的兩句話，依舊難以忘懷：
P.S. While organising old files, I stumbled upon this draft. Judging by the date, it was written ten years ago (circa 1997). Time passes so quietly, it’s terrifying. Reading this now, I realise how melancholy I must have been back then. These words remind me of the days spent poring over classical Chinese texts. Even now, two lines from Wang Bo’s Preface to the Tengwang Pavilion remain etched in my mind:
關山難越，誰悲失路之人？
萍水相逢，竟是他鄉之客。
The mountains are hard to cross; who pities the lost wanderer?
Strangers meet like drifting duckweed, merely guests in a foreign land.
現在去好望角，已經沒有那些惆悵了。凝視大西洋的落日再也不會讓我想起高雄的西子灣。懸崖下浪潮翻騰依舊，但望潮的人再也找不回當時的心境。當時對著山海感慨的人，如今在哪裡呢？
When I visit the Cape now, I no longer feel that same wistful longing. Watching the Atlantic sunset no longer stirs memories of Sizihwan. The waves crashing below the cliffs remain unchanged, but the person who once stood watching them can no longer find that same state of mind. The one who gazed upon the mountains and seas with such deep emotion—where is he now?
少年不識愁滋味，
愛上層樓、愛上層樓，
為賦新詞強說愁。
When young, I knew not the taste of sorrow,
But loved to climb high, loved to write verse,
Forcing myself to feign melancholy.
恐怕那人早已將思鄉的悲愁還給西子灣的落日，已將那份念舊的情懷遺留在故鄉走過的每一個腳印、每一個痕跡。
Perhaps that person long ago returned his homesickness to the sunsets over Sizihwan, leaving his nostalgic sentiments behind in the footprints and traces he left in his homeland.
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